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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23657476">(sun)flowers for a beautiful lady</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/starryflower/pseuds/starryflower'>starryflower</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doctor Who (2005)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Darillium (Doctor Who), F/M, She loves them, Sometimes Fluff, Sunflowers, but i wanted to make it extra sad, he hates them, thirteen is at the end really</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:09:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,599</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23657476</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/starryflower/pseuds/starryflower</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>She had no idea why he hated them, but each year, he gifted them to her as an unspoken promise. She loved them and he loved her. And then he loved them, and he loved her.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Twelfth Doctor/River Song</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>(sun)flowers for a beautiful lady</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He didn’t like them that much if he were to be honest.</p><p>
He knew how much those things meant to Amy and how much they mean to his wife, that oh so happened to be the child of his two best friends and ex-companions. The memory of them still hurt like a vicious stab in his hearts, he could almost feel the imaginary knife twist and turn, to make his pain grander. 
</p><p>
Still, he looked at the bouquet of sunflowers, that were smiling up at him, all yellow and happy, but he knew better. He knew those yellow petals that reminded him of the sun brought death and memories he cherished but would also sometimes, just sometimes, rather forget simply to stop hurting.
</p><p>
It was their first year, their anniversary. He knew how much she loved them, so he bit his tongue and put on a bright smile to make her happy, because her happiness was far more important than anything else. His hate for those flowers could wait for now. 
</p><p>
He walked into the room, her curls illuminated with soft golden light, spilled all over the pillow, golden like a field on a summer day. She looks so peaceful, he thought to himself, standing in the doorframe, simply admiring her. 
</p><p>
They rarely got to be peaceful together, domestic life was not quite their forte, being together often meant death and chaos. But not now, not these years. They earned the peace; they earned the quiet and the bliss of just being together. 
</p><p>
Sometimes, being together was just enough and they weren’t the ones to complain. Ordinary was something they couldn’t afford, their love was built on stolen moments, paradoxes, pain and suffering, but he would risk it all just to see her smile. Just to see those golden curls frame her beautiful face, to cup her cheeks and kiss her so tenderly she would melt against him. 
</p><p>
And for her, he would survive those awful flowers, even if he loathed them with all his being. 
</p><p>
. . .
</p><p>
She was writing something at the table, her curls put up in a messy bun with a few curls falling, nearly getting into her eyes. 
</p><p>
He stood there with a bouquet, those bloody sunflowers, but how couldn’t he bring them to her. When she turned around and spotted his smug grin and the little suns in his hand, she couldn’t help but give him one of her smiles, her eyes crinkled up with delight and she couldn’t help herself but go and kiss him. 
</p><p>
“Happy anniversary,” he whispered in her ear as she smelled the flowers that were almost lighting her face in yellow light. 
</p><p>
“My favourite,” she smiled while running her finger across one of the petals. They were soft and light and she was scared that she might break the flower if she pressed any harder.
</p><p>
“I know,” he purred, planting a kiss on her temple. 
</p><p>
She was soft like the petals, soft and delicate. And yet, his River had thorns like roses, she was strong like trees and she smelled like honeysuckle and danger. She smelled like home, with that smile that was brighter than the stars themselves, with voice sweeter than honey, with hearts that loved more than they were supposed to.
</p><p>
She was his and he was hers. They were like the moon and the sun, always chasing after each other, never quite together. But those few moments were worth everything to them.
</p><p>
She buried her face in the flowers, her smile hidden within the yellows. He tried to ignore the flowers, only focusing on her. He could risk it all for her.
</p><p>
. . . 
</p><p> 
“You don’t like them,” she noted on their third anniversary, as he arranged the flowers on their table. 
</p><p>
“I’m not really fond of them,” he shrugged, turning the vase to display the most beautiful out of the blooms. 
</p><p>
“Why do you keep bringing them?” she asked him, placing a hand on his shoulder. 
</p><p>
He turned to face her, his silver hair like a halo around his head. How she loved to bury her face in his neck in the mornings, his silver curls always tickling her forehead. But she wouldn’t have it any other way. 
</p><p>
“Because you love them.”
</p><p>
She got on her tiptoes to kiss him, lost for words. He was rarely the one to show affection, always so afraid to get attached. Afraid of time, of losing her. Afraid of saying goodbyes. And yet, there he was, his blue eyes, deeper than oceans themselves, hidden behind those eyebrows of his, lovingly gazing into her own. 
</p><p>
Moments like these reminded her that she was loved. They were together, no running away this time. Just time, the towers singing and their love. Peaceful mornings, if one could call them that, dinners with the best view, love and complete adoration on both sides. 
</p><p>
They didn’t always speak, no words had to be said. They knew how they felt and that was enough. She looked at the flowers, little rays of sunshine in a deep blue vase. He didn’t say it, but they meant love in that moment. 
</p><p>
. . .
</p><p> 
She was like the sun, he noticed on their fourth anniversary. Her hair was like a halo, illuminated by thousands of fairy lights, soft shadows and lights of gold were falling on her face, making her the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. 
</p><p>
Who needed stars and planets, when they had her. With all her beauty and brilliance. How did he get so lucky? was something he always wondered when he caught himself staring at her. Her eyes peered at him through yellow blossoms, making her eyes more vibrant than ever. 
</p><p>
“Need help with that?” he asked her, taking out one of the smaller flowers out of the bouquet. 
</p><p>
Her eyebrows furrowed a bit in confusion, as he trimmed the stem and put the flower behind her ear.
</p><p>
She rolled her eyes with a playful smile on her face, taking his hands into her own. 
</p><p>
“You look wonderful,” he said quietly, smiling at her. 
</p><p>
She smiled back at him, a small shy smile that could light up a whole room. She was the sun. 
</p><p>
. . .
</p><p> 
Travelling was written in his DNA. It was one of the most important things in his life and he felt the itch, his hearts calling out to him, his legs almost leading him to the Tardis. Still, he could manage, he could live through everything for her. He would gladly burn up like a star for her. 
</p><p>
“You’re incredibly tense,” she said as she closed her book and got up from the desk. 
</p><p>
“It’s nothing,” he lied, giving her a small smile. 
</p><p>
It was nothing; for her, he would survive far worse. And yet, he couldn’t help but want to travel, just a bit, just for a minute. To hear that sound of the Tardis, to finally get rid of that itch that was bugging him. 
</p><p>
“Really?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, looking at him through and through. 
</p><p>
“Yep,” he nodded, pulling her close. 
</p><p>
“Good, because I have a surprise for you.”
</p><p>
Now he was the one with a raised eyebrow. River had a mischievous smile planted on her lips, something he could never tire of. Her eyes were sparkling like thousands of stars and she was looking up at him with such love that he felt his hearts stop for a moment. 
</p><p>
“Close your eyes,” she said, knowing he wouldn’t cheat, not for her, even if he wanted to so bad. 
</p><p>
She held his hands and led him, never letting him bump into things. Not being able to see where he was going was strange, but he was glad that she was his eyes for the moment. Everything got loud and then everything got quiet and she was still holding his hands, holding her breath in suspense. 
</p><p>
And then, they moved again, and he could feel the sun on his face and warm breeze ruffling his hair a bit. 
</p><p>
“Open your eyes.”
</p><p>
He adjusted to the bright light and saw a picnic basket and a blanket under a tree. 
</p><p>
“I know it’s not exactly saving the universe, but-“
</p><p>
And before she could finish, he kissed her so passionately and so tenderly. Her hair was tickling his hair a bit and he let himself be consumed by her warm embrace. 
</p><p>
And then he noticed it. “Wait a moment,” he said to her, running of into the golden field. 
</p><p>
He plucked a few of the flowers, still not quite fond of them. Their yellow petals just tried to mask and hide the pain they always brought with them. But she loved them and that was enough to make him tolerate them, for now. 
</p><p>
. . .
</p><p> 
He left the flowers on the desk for her to find in the morning and left to collect his thoughts. It was hard not to overthink, especially at his age. He was old and tired, tired of losing, of living. It was always so painful to live, almost as painful as it was to hope. 
</p><p>
But nothing was as painful as loving. And oh, how much did he love and how many did he lose because of that simple thing. His love killed; it was as deathly as poison. He always did that, he started to care, to love, and then it hurt. And he was selfish to do it over and over again. 
</p><p>
He was selfish and self-pitying, crying about his losses, not about the lives lost. Where he went, there was death. And so, he tried, he tried for her. 
</p><p>
He tried to push her away, to not get attached. Loving him would hurt her, but him not loving her back would save her. But she was an enigma, she was like gravity, pulling him closer and closer and he couldn’t help but orbit her. 
</p><p>
She was the sun and he would burn for her; he would die for her. But she wouldn’t let him and instead, she orbited around him. But he was not the sun. 
</p><p>
Do you expect a sunset to admire you back? 
</p><p>
Those words hurt him more than anything. His home planet could burn again for all he cared, he just wanted her to be safe and to know, that she is loved. 
</p><p>
He cursed his past self for not showing her, for letting her believe that she was not loved. He wanted to let her know that she was his sun and he was just another planet, orbiting her, his existence revolving around her. 
</p><p>
But then, she was like those bloody flowers that he didn’t like. His mind went back to the legends of sunflower creation, of that poor girl that died for her love, the god of sun. And so the other gods made her a sunflower, so she could watch him every day from sunrise to sunset. 
</p><p>
Was she his sunflower? 
</p><p>
. . . 
</p><p>
She could never tire of those flowers. It was in her blood, really. Sunflowers were her mother’s favourite, her father used to buy them for her every anniversary and every chance he had. She adored their relationship; the kind of love she knew she could never get. 
</p><p>
She fell in love with a monument, she fell in love with the sun, getting hurt when she came close. Like fire, he was warm and passionate and like fire, he burnt her when she got too close. Always keeping her at a distance, burning brighter and then hurting more when she wanted to get a taste. 
</p><p>
But now, there he was, silver like the moon, his love more passionate than ever and yet, she did not find herself needing ice for her burns whenever he let her come close. He wasn’t burning her when she wanted his love anymore and he let her come in, he let her get warm in his love. 
</p><p>
She cuddled up to him, his skin cold against her own and yet, she felt warmer than ever, bathing in his love. She held him closer, afraid he might disappear. Afraid that he might burn up again like the giant he was, afraid that he might burn her with his love again. But then again, she would gladly let him.
</p><p>
She looked up at him, and there it was, under the mask made from calmness. She could see it. He was still scared, but he tried for her. She looked at the flowers again and smiled. 
</p><p>
. . .
</p><p> 
Moments were all they used to have, and he still felt himself worry from time to time. Eight years. Eight years of domestic bliss that he didn’t deserve. He didn’t deserve her love; he didn’t deserve that adoring smile that he woke up to every morning. 
</p><p>
He made her suffer so much, hurting her when he was trying to save her from getting hurt. But the cards were all laid down the moment he met her and there was no changing that. He couldn’t save her, but he could show her the love that she deserved. 
</p><p>
Showering her in gifts was something that he rarely did. Deep down, he was sentimental, but it only hurt in the end, so he put on a façade and a brave face. But the way her eyes lit up when he gifted her those earrings, when he got her those shoes for her birthday. 
</p><p>
She deserved so much more, and he couldn’t make up for his past, but he could try. He could try for the time they had now, he could love her more than he ever did, and he could hope that maybe one day, she’ll realise how much he loves her. 
</p><p>
He picked up the sunflowers, still not understanding why she loved them so much. But she did and he loved her. 
</p><p>
. . . 
</p><p>
“Flowers for a beautiful lady?” 
</p><p>
She opened her eyes and looked up at a massive bouquet and her husband’s eyes peeking out from behind it, his eyes smiling down at her. 
</p><p>
“Well, those are some beautiful flowers.”
</p><p>
“Maybe, but they are not as beautiful as the lady. The lady is the most beautiful lady I’ve ever seen, might I add,” he leaned in and kissed her softly. 
</p><p>
“Oh, stop it you,” she felt her cheeks getting red. She could never tire of that. 
</p><p>
He smiled at her, putting the sunflowers in the deep blue vase. It was almost a tradition really, anniversary meant sunflowers and lots of ridiculous gifts, but she adored every single one of them and he adored the way she smiled at him when he showered her with love and affection. 
</p><p>
She deserves better me, he thought bitterly, not letting his smile slip up a bit. He almost felt awful about it, it was as if he could buy her flowers and earn the love he did not deserve. It was pathetic and sad of him, but he adored every little thing about her and maybe it was selfish. 
</p><p>
But he could live with selfish if it meant she would smile and feel loved. He could live with selfish if it meant she would smile at him like the sunflowers smile at the sun. 
</p><p>
. . .
</p><p>
He kissed her, and she tasted like strawberries dipped in champagne on a starry night. He couldn’t get enough, she filled all his senses like the loveliest poison, making him see nothing but her, feel nothing but her. How did he get so lucky?
</p><p>
To him, she was everything. The one he didn’t deserve. The one who acted as if he was the one to paint the sky himself, as if he created every star to mirror his image. He did neither of those things. Instead, he let her pretend that he was this great enigma, when he wasn’t. 
</p><p>
He was just a fool in love, afraid of getting hurt, afraid of love, afraid of the consequences it brought. But he could play pretend for her, to make her happy. He could pretend, inhaling her scent, feeling her skin against his own. He could pretend, just for a moment. 
</p><p>
She looked at him, eyes full of passion. He could pretend, of course he could. He could pretend for her. He always did. He used to pretend that he didn’t care, he used to pretend that he didn’t love her. The truth was something different. 
</p><p>
He let her fill his senses, he let her take the lead, like she often did. She wanted to lead and yet she was searching for his approval, for his love. She was searching for control that she lacked as a child almost as much, as she was searching for touch, starved by the absence of it. 
</p><p>
He put a wild curl behind her ear, smiling at her as he let her kiss him. She felt calm and turbulent, each kiss more passionate than the last, each touch more desperate. 
</p><p>
They needed no words, even though they both had so many to say. Everything that was supposed to be said was already out in the open in the form of a bouquet of sunflowers, that was blissfully sitting on the desk like every year. 
</p><p>
. . .
</p><p>
She looked at him, sleeping peacefully next to her. It wasn’t real, it couldn’t be. Years of domestics, years together. No death, no pain; just love and so many sunflowers. 
</p><p>
She knew he hated them, never quite figured out why. She didn’t dare to ask, not wanting to ruin their peaceful moments. They had so little and yet so much of them. She didn’t want to mess this up, knowing it wouldn’t come back. 
</p><p>
Better not to waste the few good moments. Pain would always come for them, that was the deal. Loving the Doctor was like playing with fire, it always hurt, and someone got burned. Both sides most likely. He would burn up like a match, all that would be left were ashes and memories of love that once was. 
</p><p>
And she? 
</p><p>
She would burn up in blissful agony, enjoying every bit of the pain. It hurt to love him, but it was worth it. Like a person doing anything to feel again, she felt herself cling closer to him, not minding the damage they both left behind. 
</p><p>
They both knew their love was like the universe; chaotic, beautiful and so sad. It burned like a supernova and it was far more complex than anyone could understand. Their love was like roses; beautiful, but if you handled it wrong, you would get hurt by the thorns. 
</p><p>
Maybe that’s why she loved sunflowers so much – they didn’t try to hurt her. They just were. Just like he was next to her, sleeping peacefully. If he knew she was watching him, he would be grumpy about it, but she couldn’t help herself.
</p><p>
Her enigma, her oncoming storm, her bringer of darkness, sleeping peacefully next to her, letting her see at one of his most vulnerable times. 
</p><p>
She ran her hand through the silver curls, not really believing that he was next to her. She curled up next to him, breathing in the scent of home. She fell asleep to the sound of two hearts beating.
</p><p>
On the nightstand next to them, there were sunflowers. 
</p><p>
. . . 
</p><p>
Neither one of them dared to breathe. She was drunk and he was rude. 
</p><p>
She was yelling, he was awfully quiet, letting her cry out until she had no words left. They were happy to be there, they were. Domestics - never really got the hang of them, neither one did. 
</p><p>
“Maybe this was a bad idea,” she said after a long moment of silence. 
</p><p>
He could feel his hearts sink in his chest, as if he had a dagger stabbed through them. As if he was the one to twist it, to make himself feel worse. 
</p><p>
“River,” he said quietly, taking a step towards her. 
</p><p>
She hesitated, taking an unsure step back. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it immediately. This wasn’t supposed to happen. They were supposed to be happy, to live in a drunk-on-love state until they didn’t. 
</p><p>
But each year, he could feel it, in the back of his mind. Each year she was closer to leaving for good, each year she was closer to vanishing like a breath on a mirror. In a few faces she would feel like a distant memory and in a few lifetimes, he would wonder, if she was ever there. 
</p><p>
He should’ve died back then. Maybe if she had never gone to Darillium, she would have never died. But it was all written down from the start, from the first moment he met her. She was supposed to die in the library, she was supposed to leave and to leave him broken hearted, like they always did. 
</p><p>
But she wasn’t them. She was River. She was the one he would destroy the universe for. 
</p><p>
“I hate you; you know?” she said, choking on sobs. 
</p><p>
Tears stained her cheeks and her eyes were red and puffy. 
</p><p>
“No, you don’t,” he said, barely noticing the sunflowers that he left under the table to surprise her with. 
</p><p>
. . .
</p><p>
He tried not to think about it, he really did. 
</p><p>
But their years were more than halfway done, and he could feel himself preparing for the worst. He didn’t want to admit so in front of her, he wanted to keep up the façade, to make her feel as if everything was okay. 
</p><p>
Truth was, he was trying to distance himself from her in hopes it would hurt less all the while trying to stay as close as possible, making her days the best they could be. Eleven years, she had eleven years left. And while it seemed like a while, it was mere seconds for him, for both of them. 
</p><p>
He has lived a long life, a life long enough to realise how fleeting life was and how his time with her was cut long before it could be spent. Twenty-four years in life that long meant minutes. Seconds, for which he would kill. 
</p><p>
He still hated sunflowers, their happiness was fake, and it made him feel worse about everything. It reminded him of a painter and orange hair blowing in the wind. It reminded him of memories long forgotten, of memories far too painful to remember. 
</p><p>
Maybe deep down, it reminded him of hope. But hope was nothing for him, not anymore. Every day he tried to figure out a way to make her stay, to make her live. 
</p><p>
Every day he felt his hope slipping, every day he knew his attempts were in vain. 
</p><p>
He picked up the blossoms and knocked four times on the wooden door, ready to see her smile, ready to try to memorise it while he still could. 
</p><p>
. . .
</p><p>
She could feel him slipping, but she said nothing. 
</p><p>
Like the moon, he became distant, cold. And yet every smile made her melt. Every loving embrace made her hearts flutter, her stomach filling with butterflies. He made her weak and he made her strong. 
</p><p>
And right now, he made her lonely. 
</p><p>
For once, he knew more than she did. Sometimes that happened, not usually. For once he was the one to try to prevent hurt, he was the one to try to prevent their hearts breaking. 
</p><p>
She knew he was lonely; she knew he was hurting. But she couldn’t get to him. Each time she tried he gifted her with one of his smiles, making her knees weak. But she knew, she could feel him watching her at night. She could feel him leave their bed, she could see him standing there in the dim light, lines forming on his face. 
</p><p>
She could see him hurting, but he wouldn’t let her in. Instead, he gifted her a sunflower every day. 
</p><p>
“Why do you hate them?” she asked him sometimes, but he just gave her a small smile and never answered. 
</p><p>
. . .
</p><p>
“Penny for your thoughts?” she asked him, her curls illuminated by soft light. 
</p><p>
The night was more than halfway over, the dark blue and purple hues were starting to fill with warm oranges, but the towers were still singing. They were singing a quiet song, a sad song, a song neither of them knew, but they both felt it. They both knew what it was about. 
</p><p>
They both could feel the hurt behind the beautiful melody, they both could feel the tears sting in their eyes as they tried to blink them away. 
</p><p>
She looked up at him, soft shadows darkened his features. He was thinking again; that sad and distant expression written all over his face. 
</p><p>
He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again immediately. This was something he would deal with later. She had a few more moments with him and he wouldn’t spoil that for her. He might be selfish, but he wasn’t about to be selfish on her behalf. 
</p><p>
Instead, he smiled at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I hope you like sunflowers,” he teased, planting a kiss on the top of her hand. 
</p><p>
. . .
</p><p>
He tried for her. He tried to forget it; he really did. 
</p><p>
He tried to be the perfect husband, he showered her with gifts and attention and love. And she loved it. But she could also see right through it. She didn’t dare to tell him, but she saw it. 
</p><p>
The sadness in his eyes when he looked at her, the way he held her as if she were a fragile piece of glass. She knew what was coming, she heard the stories, looked some of them up herself. She knew that she shouldn’t do it, but she wanted to know where she was headed. 
</p><p>
She wanted to have it under control for once. But the sunflowers in their bedroom were getting out of control. Each year, she dried one of them and left it in a new bouquet, a bouquet that she stored in her nightstand. Sixteen flowers. Sixteen memories of days that used to be, days that would never come back. 
</p><p>
She felt her hearts sink at the sight of the bouquet, reliving the memories in her head. 
</p><p>
She didn’t let him see her tears; some things didn’t need to be said. Instead, she picked up one of the blooms in the newest bouquet and smelled it, knowing it would join her personal one. He wouldn’t notice, his hate for the flowers too grand to pay attention to them further than he had to. 
</p><p>
It was always the same with him. He frowned at the flowers, but he gave them to her every year. And every year, she wanted to ask him, why? And every year, she knew the answer. 
</p><p>
. . .
</p><p>
Some of their moments were tender, sweet, soft like flower petals. Some of them were passionate. All of them were filled with love, even the darkest ones. 
</p><p>
They held each other tight when times were rough, their presence was enough to fix most of their problems. At least the ones that their presence didn’t create. 
</p><p>
He kissed her lips, painted red like strawberries, their taste like fine wine. She held him close, letting herself get burned in his love. He wanted to orbit her, and she wanted to orbit him. They were pulled to each other with forces stronger than gravity and yet they were pulled apart, like magnets on the wrong side. 
</p><p>
Like the sun and the moon, running after each other, never meeting. Their love, however, was stronger than any force. It was built on chaos and flowers that meant death and yet they were shining like the sun. 
</p><p>
He could see stars in them if he looked from a distance. The dark within them just masked by the vibrant yellows. He didn’t like them, but he liked her, and she was just the same. Masking her dark side with a vibrant façade. But to him, she could do no harm. No matter how dark it could get, he wouldn’t let her be alone. Never again. 
</p><p>
. . .
</p><p>
The flowers were arranged in their vase on the table. They were sharing a desert, that suspiciously reminded them both of chocolate cake, but they didn’t say anything and instead enjoyed the nice moment. 
</p><p>
The golden halo of her hair was tied up in a bun, her lips were painted a deep red. She wore her favourite earrings and looked at him with such adoration that his hearts filled with more love than they could handle. 
</p><p>
He fed her another piece of the desert, smiling as she tried to get off the chocolate from the corner of her mouth. They both laughed and talked, trying not to notice the orange hues in the sky, slowly mixing with azure blues. 
</p><p>
He ran his thumb across the top of her hand, saying silent promises of love. She accepted the love and reciprocated it several times more intensely. He tried to one up her again, but their bickering meant nothing more than love. Nothing more and nothing less. 
</p><p>
They never said the words, they never had to be said. All that mattered was right in front of them, no “I love you” could ever change that. She said “I love you” with every smile. He said, “I love you” with every sunflower, magnifying it with every note that said, “Happy anniversary, sweetie.”
</p><p>
. . . 
</p><p>
“Why do you hate them?” she tried again, breathing in their scent. 
</p><p>
Little suns of her own, smiling up at her, a promise of love.
</p><p>
Little suns of her own, smiling up at her, bringers of death. 
</p><p>
He didn’t tell her, he couldn’t. Instead, he held her closer, breathing in the scent of home and sunflowers. Her hair tickled his nose, but he gladly let it. The truth was, he didn’t hate them anymore. Was he fond of them? No. But he didn’t hate them. Not when they meant so much to her. 
</p><p>
She let him touch her, his fingers cold on her skin. She let him hold her, letting him take control for once. With him, she could be vulnerable. With him, she felt safe, even though most times she was with him, the universe was at stake and dying. 
</p><p>
He touched her gently, as if she was a flower petal, soft and delicate. In that moment, she didn’t have thorns. In that moment, she was fearless and defenceless. And in that moment, he would protect her with his very being - he always would. 
</p><p>
 For she was his and he was hers. And she was the sun he would gladly orbit. 
</p><p>
. . .
</p><p>
They got married, again. Twenty years in. 
</p><p>
She wore a white dress and he wore his favourite suit. His tie was yellow like the sunflowers that decorated the whole restaurant. A proper wedding, she said. One when the universe didn’t need saving. 
</p><p>
And so he agreed. 
</p><p>
And there they were stood, as if nothing in the universe but them mattered. Nardole held his bowtie, the one that was used during their first wedding, as he pronounced them husband and wife. Her eyes were full of sparkles as she smiled up at him, more beautiful than ever. 
</p><p>
Her hair was flowing down her back, golden curls falling like a waterfall. Her bouquet was full of sunflowers, the flowers that meant unsaid promises of love for her. The flowers that meant that he cared that he did listen. The flowers that showed her that maybe, just maybe, her monument loved her back.
</p><p>
She whispered his name in his ear, it gave her chills every time. He kissed her with so much desperation and yet softly. She kissed him back, her hearts skipping several beats. 
</p><p>
The crowd cheered as they pulled apart, their looks full of adoration pulling them together once more. They were each other’s gravity; they were the force that nature had nothing on. 
</p><p>
She laughed as she turned her back on the people and threw her bouquet – an earth tradition she always wanted to try. After all, their little family was a mix of everything. Human mother, centurion father, daughter of the Tardis and her time lord husband. 
</p><p>
But she wouldn’t have it any other way, because even the bad times were worth it. 
</p><p>
. . .
</p><p>
He didn’t hate them anymore. Instead, he bought her more. They were starting to run out of time and he wanted to make her feel loved. He wanted her to be spoiled by love and gifts and beautiful dinners at night nearing dawn.
</p><p>
All the deep hues were almost gone, instead replaced by a morning sky. They still had time, he reminded himself. It didn’t work. 
</p><p>
No matter how they tried to pretend, they could see the night slowly fading away from them. And each day, the song became quieter and somehow sadder. When she slept, he snuck out to research, but he didn’t find anything. 
</p><p>
Each day, he became more frustrated. She couldn’t end like that. She deserved more than to die in a library for his future. A future that he didn’t deserve. He didn’t deserve her adoration. He just wanted her to live, he wanted her to get her happy ending. But her happy ending was nowhere to be found. 
</p><p>
No book could help. No fairy tale told a story of a happy ending for the mysterious woman that managed to steal both of his hearts. And without her happy ending, he was sure he couldn’t get his own. 
</p><p>
There were nights when he wanted to join her, to find a way to get in the library. He knew what she would say, she would berate him and remind him that he was needed – the universe needed him.
</p><p>
He would sit quietly without another word, because she wouldn’t believe him if he told her that she was his universe. Without her, there was no reason. Without her, he felt empty. Gallifrey was no longer a home to him, it never was. Home was with her, in her embrace. 
</p><p>
Home was feeling her close, home was when her curls tickled his skin. Home was when she smiled at him, when her eyes lit up. Home was when she was brilliant, and she always was. Home was her everything. 
</p><p>
He felt at home when he was holding her, he felt at home when he was fighting with her. He felt at home when she was by his side, no matter the circumstances. The universe could burn for all he cared. Home was with her and he wasn’t ready to let go. 
</p><p>
He put the sunflowers in their vase, studying them carefully. 
</p><p>
. . .
</p><p>
She looked at his curls of silver, reminding her of the moon. When she was a child, she used to love looking up at the moon. She somehow knew that there was more to life, even if she didn’t quite remember it. She used to watch the moon with Amy and Rory as they dreamed up a future and played pretend.
</p><p>
They dreamt a dream of a raggedy Doctor, the one who would come and take them for an adventure. But as years went by, they stopped believing. Still, she loved to look up at the moon. 
</p><p>
The silver giant, that wasn’t really giant at all, but it was always there, even if it was hidden behind clouds. It was always there, shining down at her, illuminating everything in soft light, making everything glow and sparkle. 
</p><p>
She could see the moon now when she looked at him. A giant, but not really. Orbiting the earth, creating chaotic order, shining down on people. He wasn’t like the sun; he was often forgotten. The beauty he created was only seen by few, truly experienced by even fewer. And she was lucky enough to experience it. 
</p><p>
Still, to her, he was the sun. He was the sun and the moon. She could orbit around him forever, following him wherever he went, like a sunflower following the sun. And sometimes he orbited her as if she was the earth, running around her in circles, but somehow still true to himself. 
</p><p>
Or maybe she was the sun to him, and he was the earth. Orbiting her and yet orbiting around himself, as he sometimes did with his selfishness. She couldn’t blame him, a life that was as long as his would leave a person bitter. He didn’t really see the pain if it didn’t affect him specifically because if he did, it would break his hearts. 
</p><p>
Still she knew that deep down, he was well aware of all the death and destruction around him. He just tried not to be, for he would never forgive himself and he would break. 
</p><p>
She stopped in her tracks to smell the newest sunflowers. It was not a spoken phrase, but she could hear it louder than ever. 
</p><p>
. . .
</p><p>
He studied her carefully, trying not to get too close. She was watching the sky; her hair was flowing down her back in perfect ringlets. She was shining, luminating everything she touched. She was the sun for him, and he would chase her around for infinity, longing for more time than they had. 
</p><p>
Twenty-four years. And all of them were almost spent. 
</p><p>
He listened to the soft singing, quieter than ever before. It was sad and so beautiful. And all the hope was gone. He knew the day would come, but he wasn’t ready to wake up. It was too good to be true; it always was that way with her. She didn’t feel real and yet she was.
</p><p>
And each time he touched her she felt more like a ghost. She could feel her slipping through his fingers, as if she wasn’t ever there. Her touch became softer than ever, like a breeze that never was. Her smile was filled with pain and her eyes were glistening with tears each time she looked away. 
</p><p>
But they wouldn’t have it any other way. This was the deal and they both knew it. One could not exist without the other and yet, they couldn’t exist together. But when those special moments when they were together happened, they created something beautiful. 
</p><p>
Something so beautiful and so sad. 
</p><p>
He looked at her and then down at the sunflowers he was holding. Something so beautiful and so sad.
</p><p>
. . .
</p><p>
To him, she was paramount. 
</p><p>
And there she was, laughing about nothing. Sitting with the best view, beautiful as ever. She was wearing the earrings he got her and the shoes. Her lips were painted red and her eyes were soft, but they were sad. 
</p><p>
As if they were covered with glass, the tears in her eyes were trying to run down her cheek, but she quickly blinked them away. Her hair was tied up in a bun with a few ringlets framing her face, the way he liked it. 
</p><p>
He barely noticed her black dress, instead focusing on the hues in the sky. It was dawn. And it was time.
</p><p>
They both knew what was coming as he kissed the top of her hand, both trying not to cry. There was nothing they could do now; it was all set in stone. 
</p><p>
She told him she would stay behind for a while and he let her, coming back to their room, blinking away tears. He ran his thumb across the yellow petals, sighing to himself. He didn’t hate sunflowers anymore.
</p><p>
. . .
</p><p>
She took the sunflower in her hand and placed it on top of the blue book to the rest of them. Twenty-four dried up sunflowers next to the book filled with secrets of love and pain. She blinked away tears, running her thumb across the yellow petals. 
</p><p>
Sunflowers, a symbol of death. Sunflowers, a symbol of utter adoration, love and hope. 
</p><p>
She didn’t hate sunflowers anymore. 
</p><p>
Now, she loved them the most.</p>
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